


How To Draw The Heart

by IISoapII



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Gen, How Do I Tag, I just wanted to write some polyboys, M/M, Multi, POV First Person, Past Relationships, Polyamory, Slice of Life, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-15 05:12:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8043817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IISoapII/pseuds/IISoapII
Summary: Nico is an Art student who draws what he sees in all the shades of black and grey and white. Jason is a photography student who sees all the colours of the world through a lens. Will is a paramedic who gives everyone just a little more time and a little more hope. Percy is a life guard who is simply trying not to drown. This is a love story between four very different people who somehow manage to find each other.





	1. Nico

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Here's my first Percy Jackson fanfic!  
> Basically, I felt the urge to try something different, namely writing in first person as that isn't something I've ever done.  
> I also decided I wanted to do a polyamourous relationship and my four PJO faves became my targets, so here we are!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy wherever this ride takes us! Let me know what you think at the end!

Coffee is good. Black coffee is very good. Coffee with just the right amount of cream and sugar is excellent. A latte is all right every once in awhile and a mocha is perfect on a cool night with a good book and the radio on. Espresso is the only reason some people are able to function in the morning and cappucino...? Cappucino is the reason I get out of bed every day.

Specifically this cappucino on Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday mornings. Why this cappucino you ask? Because not only is it a perfect mix of everything I like my coffee to be (I'm something of a coffee snob. Sorry about that.), it also has a beautiful heart drawn in the foam every time I order it and the smile that brings it to me reminds me that I'm alive and that getting up on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays is important too. Even if on those days, it's a different coffee.

With the warm smell of fresh java surrounding me, I find I do some of my best work here. The people who sit here or outside are relaxed and the easiest to sketch and draw. Not just the customers either, the employees make excellent models.

“Don't you have enough drawings of me?”

Never. I could never draw your smile, your hair, your eyes, your nose, your hands enough.

“You're the only one who stands still long enough. I guess the others are just too busy working.” Jason rolled his eyes at me and probably would've hit me with the cloth in his hands if there weren't other people in the cafe.

“Someone woke up on the asshole side of the bed this morning.” He told me dryly, snatching my empty mug and plate from the table top. I laughed. I couldn't help it. “Poor Will must think you want _me_ too.” Jason grinned and I smirked back at him and was likely still doing so as he walked away and checked on other customers. Jason had no idea how close to the truth he actually was.

Looking down at my sketchbook, Jason's face smiles back up at me, almost leaning off the page towards me with my perfect cappucino and muffin. Beside him on the page a woman feeds her baby, above her a bowl of fruit and beside that, a man leaning against the lamp post outside smoking a cigarette. The hands down in the bottom right are also Jason's. The barely there lines on the next page also happen to be the same cheerful barista serving cake to a little girl.

My life drawing teacher could probably recognize Jason in a heartbeat from how often he graces the pages of my sketchbooks. But that's how it goes I guess, we tend to favour the things we like. Or something like that. He is right though, there's a lot of him in this one, really the only person there's more of in it is Will – my boyfriend. I really should mix it up a bit, get away from the coffee and home scene a bit more before I had to pass this one in.

I dig my wallet out of my back pack – yes it's a black one with a _chain_ on it. So sue me. It's practically falling apart I've had it for so long, but I love the damn thing and I'm not about to throw it away cause it's not _cool_. Will sighs at it every time he sees it, but he's since learned to not say anything about it anymore. It's not going anywhere any time soon.

I drop some money on the table, shoulder my back pack and pick up my drawing stuff. I throw Jason a quick wave and he sends me out the with another smile.

It's nice outside. Warm, sunny, bit of a breeze, but there are dark clouds on the horizon that look like they're going to bring rain in the afternoon. Which means if I want to draw outside, I had best be doing so before class today, otherwise it'll be an indoor drawing day today.

I don't mind either way. People are fascinating to look at and watch no matter where they are. Going about their business, day in and out, most not even aware of the things happening around them. My sketchbooks are filled with so many small, private moments in strangers lives, captured with graphite, charcoal and ink.

People are my favourite things to draw. Definitely not my favourite things to interact with, but draw, yes. People let down their barriers when they don't think others are watching and it's amazing to look at. The way a father holds his daugters hand. The way a lady carefully fixes her lipstick. How children look at the world around them. People are incredible things to look at and watch and as long as most of them stay away from me, I'm happy to sit and draw them.

As I near the building with my first class of the day in it, I'm not really looking at whats right in front of me. Cars zipping past on the road aren't all that interesting, you know. I'm paying just enough attention to them so as to not get mowed over. Instead, most of my attention is on what is around me.

The shops opening for the day. The fresh smell of baking bread. Kids laughing from somewhere near by and students all starting to cluster on the sidewalk, heading in the same direction as me. All laden with their packs of supplies to hopefully help them get ahead in life.

This light is taking a damn long time to change.

Across the street from me is a girl. Probably a student too. Maybe a few years older than me. She's got warm skin, brown hair and brightly coloured feathers braided into her hair. The shock of blue standing out remarkably against the dark brown.

My fingers itch to draw her. To bring her to life on the white pages in my sketch book. She seems to be waiting or someone. She's holding her phone in her hand and keeps looking at it and then looking around. I wonder who she's waiting for? I wonder that a lot. Sometimes, when I look over my book at the end of the day, I'll look at the faces and wonder where they went after that brief moment of being still. Where did they go, what did they do?

All I get is a brief window into their lives and all I can do is make up the story as I go along, pouring it out from my pencil.

As soon as I get across the street, I sit on the building steps and open my book, the light lines of the girl almost appearing on the page like magic next to the hard lines of Jason. I wonder what the feathers are for. Why are they blue? Is that her favourite colour? 

It's not long before the person she was waiting for shows up. Another girl with vibrant blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. They hug and head off down the street. I never see the blonde girls face, but she had a backpack on and was also probably a student. It's a college town, most of us are students to some degree here.

The girls sharing their embrace started to appear on the next page, quick lines drawn across the white from memory. They looked to be good friends. Did they greet each other like that every time they saw each other? Or were they meeting again for the first time in a long time? I suppose I'll never know.

Suddenly a basketball bumps my foot, startling me from my thoughts and drawing and I'm sure I look as confused as possible when I look down at it.

“Sorry!” Slender hands suddenly settle on the ball – there are band aids on three fingers – and lift the ball from the concrete by my foot. I follow it up and this time there's no mistaken the definite deer look on my face. Well done Di Angelo. 

“Uh, uh...” Nobody look at me.

“I dropped it. Sorry again!” The owner of the ball grins at me in an undeniably apologetic fashion, tucks his ball under his arm and turns away. I can only stare at his back as he heads off down the street, my mouth still hanging open from our brief (very brief) encounter.

It wasn't that I'd never seen the man before. He's actually on a few of my sketchbook pages as well. It's just that it's been a very long time since I've seen his face that close to mine. Since I've had one of his casually amazing crooked smiles directed right at me.

My heart finally catches up to the situation and starts hammering hard in my chest. Coming from a complete standstill, the feeling was a little disconcerting. And _annoying_. I got over Percy Jackson a long time ago.

A _very_ long time ago.

Which of course might make you wonder why he's in my sketchbook. Simply put, he has an amazing body. One that as an artist, I'm certainly allowed to appreciate.

I have three favourite people I like to draw.

Will, when we're at home or out and about. He's soft and flowy and I could spend all day drawing him and it would never be enough to capture his radiant beauty. The curve of his tender smiles looks up at me from almost every other page of my sketchbook. He's all gentle lines and shading and everything that puts me at ease and makes me feel. His is a body that cradles and heals and brings out the sun on a cloudy day.

Jason, when he's at work or when we're just hanging out. He's strong and hard and I could draw him for hours on end. He's completely solid and as Will once pointed out in a drawing; literally shaped like a dorito. The way his muscles curve and arch beneath his clothing is absolutely mesmerizing and I know I stare sometimes. It's hard not to watch the smooth machine that is the body of Jason Grace move. His is a body that punches through the air with strength and defence and protection.

Then there's Percy Jackson.

He's in my sketchbook just as much as Will and Jason and if I'm being completely honest, I've probably drawn him more than either of them. The only difference being that unlike Will and Jason, Percy has no idea I still draw him.

I draw Percy at the pool.

He's there a lot, which makes sense. He works as a life guard there, gives swimming lessons and swims himself. Percy is all crisp, smooth, slender lines. His is a body that allows him to slice through water and remain completely unreachable by anyone.

I look at the hands drawn on the page beside the girls embracing and I wonder, where did the three band aids and scrapes come from, what did he do to his hands?

It's another one of those things I'll never know. Whatever it was probably happened while he was doing something stupid. Like attempting parkour or skateboarding down a flight of stairs or some other dumb thing that he'd be one to do. That's the kind of guy Percy always was. I'm still embarrassed by how long it took me to realize he wasn't actually my type – that I was just gripping my foolish crush like some idiot.

Still, as annoying as Percy always was, he's still a great model to draw.

Which is why I guess I've found myself once again sitting in the stands at the pool after my classes finished for the day. There are a lot of people here. Which is normal, it is Monday afterall. The pool runs an after school program for kids on Mondays, one that Percy often guards or teaches at.

“What are you drawing?”

“Huh?” There's a little girl sitting on the bench next to me, looking at me with typical childlike wonder and amazement. I guess she's immune to the usual grim-reaper, anti-social vibes I give out. I should probably work on that.

“Can I see?” She inches closer to me on the bench and automatically I wince and hug my sketchbook closer to my chest. “Please?” She prompts. “I like to draw too!” She grins and looks expectantly at my book. She's not going to go away, is she?

I need a minute to think. I look over the pool for a second, just to see something other than her insistent face and instantly I'm caught by the calculating look being given to me by the lifeguard; Percy. I quickly look back at the little girl, push back a sigh and show her the page I was on.

“Wow!” She exclaims, studying it. “That's pretty good!” She chirps.

“Oh really?” I actually wasn't drawing Percy this time. I was drawing the small cluster of parents sitting in the lowest stands closest to the pool across the way from me. Their excitement and concern for their children etched onto the page in my book.

“Yeah, it's all right.” I'd been downgraded from pretty good to _**'all right'**_ in the matter of seconds. This was why I didn't hang out with kids. “I'll show you mine!” And then she was taking her Frozen back pack off and unzipping it with... The cast on her arm certainly explained why she wasn't swimming.

Most surprisingly, even with my little... bench friend, I did get more drawing done. After she showed me her doodles, she grabbed her math book from her bag and set her scribbler against it and declared:

“I'm going to draw Coach Percy!” And then holding out her hands, she made a box with her forefingers and thumbs, closed one eye and stuck her tongue out and made a great show of watching Percy through the window she'd made. “You should draw him too! Then I can give you some pointers!”

“Pointers.”

“Yeah! That way you can get better.”

I had nothing to say to that. But having been given an open window to draw him, I wasn't going to say no. Percy wasn't actually coaching or running the kids program tonight. He was life guarding the deeper end of the pool that was still open to the general public. He wore the loose shorts and tank top that said _'_ **lifeguard'** on them. Whistle hanging around his neck, life preserver held loosely in his hand.

He looked so calm and collected, walking slowly, methodically up and down the length of the deep end of the pool. He'd pause at either end for a few moments and look around, before resuming the steady, observant walk. I know most people, when they see a lifeguard, they all tend to wonder ' _Has he or she ever saved a life before?'_ Percy has. Right here, at this pool.

I saw it with my own two eyes. It had been a normal day and everything was fine and dandy. I was drawing a group of elderly swimmers doing the Aquasize class. There was the typical echo-y noise of a pool; kids shouting and splashing, coaches calling out encouragement. People were doing laps, some couples were goofing off and then came the piercing blast of the whistle.

Percy had moved like lightning through the water.

One moment he'd been standing on the side, talking to a guy in the water and in the next breath, his sharp eyes had seen what no one else had. He blew on the whistle and was in the water and across the pool before most people had even realized the whistle had been blown.

They said afterward that it was Percy's quick action that had saved the womans life. Apparently she usually swam in the shallow end, but having seen the Aquasize class, the kids and the couples goofing off, thought she'd try swimming her laps in the other end of the pool. She'd inhaled water instead of air and of course, the bottom of the pool wasn't right under her feet where she was used to it being.

He got her out of the pool and someone screamed when they realized the woman wasn't moving, which of course made all the kids start screaming and crying. But all of Percy's focus was on the woman, it was like he didn't even hear the noise. He just administered CPR and when he accepted the womans flowers and thank you card a few days later, he just smiled at her. Like keeping people from death by drowning was something he did every day.

I guess, it _is_ something he does every day.

“How did you do that?”

“Huh?” My bench friend was looking at me with wide eyes and then pointed at my Percy sketches. His face, his hand curled around the life preserver, standing by the pool.

“He's moving around too much to just _draw_!” My bench friend puffed out her cheeks in frustration and looked at her scribbler paper. It was... Percy. We'll say it was Percy because that's who she wanted it to be. Standing by a pool with a life saver ring in his hand and a big smile on his face and a bunch of cheering... shapes with faces in the pool. I'll assume they're kids.

I'm being mean aren't I?

She does have a broken arm and my drawings probably looked the same when I was her age.

“Hey, that's pretty good!” I told her, nodding at the drawing.

“Really?” She grinned at me.

“Yeah, it's all right.” I gestured to it with my pencil. “You should sign it when it's finished.”

“And give it to him!?” I wasn't going to say that but, whatever. I nodded. “Do you think he'll like it?”

“Who wouldn't?”

“Are you gonna give him yours too?” I'm pretty sure the sound I made would've made anyone who wasn't this small child concerned for my health had they been able to hear it over the noise.

“No. No I am not.”  
  
“You should! It's really good!”

“Heh. I don't... I don't think it'll mean the same. Um...Coming from me as yours will.”

I was thankfully saved from this mortifying conversation by one of the employees giving three quick whistle blows. The after school program was over, kids were getting out of the pool and -

“I think nows your chance.” Another lifeguard had just walked over to Percy and taken then the life preserver from him. They were switching up.

“Coach Percy!” Shit. I'd meant for her to go _to him._ Not for her to call him over _here._ But there she was standing and waving him over and calling his name and... He was coming. Oh God he was coming over.

“Hey Bianca!” My heart froze and I looked at my bench friend in shock. The name of this laughing, smiling, drawing girl with the broken arm was Bianca. Why did it have to be Bianca and Percy?

“Look! Look!” The girl – Bianca quickly scrawled her name on her drawing and tore it from her scribbler and jumped up, hurrying down to Percy and holding the paper out to him.

“What's this?” He took it from her in his slender hands. “Is this me? Aw, Bianca!” Percy always had an odd way of quirking his lips when he smiled, giving it the appearance of being crooked. The grin lit up his face and he draped an arm around Bianca, hugging her close. Her smile was from ear to ear as she hugged him tight, the side of her face pressed against his hip.

Percy crouched down to her level. The adoration on her face was almost palpable. It was an expression I recognized very well, it was one I used to wear for the same person a long, long time ago. I wonder if Percy even remembers my name, let alone the way I used to look at him.

“I love it Bianca!” He looked back at the drawing. “Gonna put this right on my fridge when I get home.” The fridge. A high place of honour among child artists. Bianca squealed with delight and then... Oh no. _Oh no!_

I felt like everything was moving in slow motion. The way she lifted her broken arm, forefinger pointing up, straight at me. I could see the words on her mouth just as well as I could hear them.

“He drew you too! Look!”

And then Percy's gaze rose up to me sitting on the bench and I could only stare in growing horror as Binaca took Percy's freehand and tugged him over to the stand stairs and up the few to -

“Uh, uh...” The same brilliant statement from this morning.

“Show him!” Bianca ordered me cheerfully. Percy for his part, looked both genuinely amused and curious.

I sigh dramatically. Outwardly, I'm sure I look just as dark and broody as ever. On the inside I'm frantically gathering my thoughts. Percy wasn't supposed to ever actually _see_ a drawing of him I'd done.

“It's um... Not as good as yours though.” Maybe that'll get her off my case.

“Yes it is!” She insisted. I just stared down at my book. My face feeling hot.

“Bianca, if he doesn't wanna show me...”

Then came the sound of ripping paper. It was like my hands had just come alive on their own and one was tearing the page from my book and holding it out to him, my other was clutching my very hot and likely red face. Oh god.

I felt him take the paper from me. Oh god. Oh _god_.

I jumped to my feet and threw my backpack over my shoulder.

“There's a – I have to – I'll be going now!” Yeah. I know. Smooth right? I jumped the stand benches like they were really far apart stairs and moved as quickly out of the pool area as I could without breaking the _'no running'_ rule.

I don't think I stopped moving until I was halfway home whereupon I just leaned against the chain link fence surrounding the park and hugged my sketchbook and tried to remember how to breathe. It was like when my hands just started doing things without me, the rest of me followed suit. Every nerve in my body had just started shouting for me to get out of there. To get away from Bianca and Percy. I didn't want to see him look at the drawing. I didn't want to see his face when he saw himself on that white page.

I took a deep breath and tilted my head back, exhaling slowly. One of my hands carefully went down to my side, curling into a fist. I fought back against my anxiety. I held my breath for a count of seven and let it out to the count of seven. I kept doing that until I was able to feel my knees again and uncurl my hand.

Shit.

I think I stayed there for a few minutes, just enough to get myself totally under control again and then I continued home.

When I walked into my apartment, the first thing to hit me was the fresh smell of Irish Springs. The second was the balled up towel.

“Would you turn on your phone, just for once?”

And there was Will, obviously just having gotten out of shower. His wavy blonde hair was still a bit wet, his white t-shirt was clinging to his damp skin and he was wearing those hideously ugly grey sweat pants he wears when he's **'comfy'.**

“What?” I blinked.

“I've been texting you about what you wanted for supper. You didn't answer, so you'll just have to put up with canned soup.”  
  
I didn't need supper. I was busy feasting my eyes on Will. I let my back pack fall off my shoulder and set my sketchbook down beside it. I shrugged out of my jacket and slipped my shoes off.

Will had his hands on his hips and that grumpy look he gets on his face when he's had enough of my shit. I ignored it and wrapped my arms around him instead.

“I think I'll just have you.”

 


	2. Jason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Here's chapter two! I'm glad everyone seems to be liking this so far. I hope you continue to enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Nothing beats the feel of cold, hard concrete beneath my feet in the morning. Before the sun is even really risen; when it's still just a red streak on the horizon and my only companion is the white morning mist hovering in the air. I don't need music to run to, the steady, quick beat of my heart and my own breaths are tune enough for me.

This is my favourite hour of the day.

Running in the not quite darkness of the purple dawn, with only myself for company. If I have time to think, I'm not running hard enough. If I have time to worry, I'm not running fast enough.

I find my morning run helps me to focus and sort things out, even though I try not to actually think about anything while I go. Maybe it gives my subconsious time to work through whatever happens to be on my mind. I'm not sure, whatever it is though, I like it.

Plus, I get to see some of the most beautiful sights a person can only see at this near silent hour of the morning.

I stop running and draw a deep breath, raising my arms up behind my head as I take in the view. I'm standing on the stone bridge that passes the river and the sky is a glorious explosion of colour. It's a soft peach streaked with intense reds and gentle hues of pink and purple and I just stand and drink it all in. I stay there for a few minutes, just breathing and feeling my sweat cooling on my skin.

I can't be still for too long, the ache will start to settle in my legs, but I can take this glorious sunrise with me.

I pull my phone from the pouch on the black band strapped around my arm and quickly snap a picture and give myself one last look at the colourful display before me. The sunrise is always amazing, but there are some days when it just feels even more spectacular.

My run takes me to my next usual stop of the day; the gym. I run for an hour, then I train for an hour, then I go on to do whatever else needs doing in my day. I'm an organized soul, I like routine and planning and to know what's happening. I like to be in control of what I'm doing.

As my friend Nico once put it, I like to have structure and it's true, really. I mean, I agree with his assessment and why wouldn't I? There's nothing wrong with self-dicipline and creating purpose and solidity in ones life. Those are good things.

It's not that I don't do impulsive things. I just like to have a plan of action, to know what's happening and when and why. Surprises along the way are fine, but too many of them and then everything just runs away from you and falls through your fingers and then you find yourself throwing back a neon red drink, standing on a dark wood coffee table and performing karaoke with a mop handle and wondering how the hell you got there.

I don't like it when things get too out of my control. When things start happening without any rational thought or clarity. I watched things spiral out of control too often for my mother to allow that happen to me.

So my day always starts the same; get up, make the bed, drink a smoothie, run, gym. Sleep, smoothie sweat. It's a good morning routine and usually prepares me for whatever might happen over the next twenty-four hours.

Unfortunately, I don't think all the green smoothies and sweating in the world could've prepared me for my sisters early Tuesday morning assault.

“Have you messaged him yet?”

“Thalia... What?” I was still too busy staring at her. It was barely eight o'clock and for some reason she was standing in front of me, arms crossed over her chest and glaring at me sitting on the weight bench. Her dark hair is messy and looks like she might've just rolled out of bed. Considering that ten is usually pretty early for her, I don't think that's an unjust statement.

I should applaud her for actually putting herself together this early though. While her hair is messy, her dark red lipstick and black eyeliner are spot on. She's wearing her usual ripped denim jeans, a black band shirt of some sort and a spikey black leather jacket. There also happen to be buckles everywhere; so many buckles. I'm pretty sure most of them don't serve any real purpose.

“That guy I've been telling you about!” She gave me a look like, _“Duh!”_ and all I can do is stare at her some more, my hand wrapped around a black weight, arm still curled.

“Thalia, what are you doing here?” She never comes to the gym. She calls them douchebag central and avoids them harder than she avoids peas at supper time. And skipping over the fact that she's here at the gym, there's the small detail that she doesn't like to get out of bed before noon.“It's like... Eight o'clock. Why are you even awake?”

Thalia rolled her blue eyes at me like _**I**_ was the one being strange.

“Jason.” She seized a large orange exercise ball and sat on it, leaning towards me, hands steepled like she was praying. “I am asking you.” She said this slowly and with very strained sounding patience. “If you've messaged my friend yet.”

I stare at her. Then I resume doing my curls. Trying to force some sense of normalcy into this morning.

“You're asking me this at eight AM, why?”

“Oh my **_god_**   little brother!” The sound of exasperation she made was really quite funny and I can't help but chuckle and grin, glancing up at her. She's leaning back on the exercise ball and is clutching at her face with her hands. The black nail polish on her fingers is chipped and her left pinky is twitching violently. I'll take pity on her.

“No Thalia, I haven't.”  
  
“Why the hell not!?” Her hands fly from her face and she gestures wildly around, looking at me like somehow I'm the crazy Grace kid. “I'm telling you! He's hot! You'd get along great!”

Were we really having this conversation right now? I sigh and switch arms.

“Thalia look... He's a friend of yours and I just don't think...” How was I supposed to put this delicately to my sister who really only wanted to see me happy? The people Thalia typically chose as friends weren't really... They weren't the kind of people I usually went out of my way to say hello to.

“Oh. My. God.” Thalia's mouth snapped shut and she glared at me and I groaned, already hearing what she was about to accuse me of. “Jason! You're being biased and judgemental!”

“I am not!” Well, I might be.

“Just because he's a friend of mine, you -”

“Thalia.” I frown at her and set my weight down, moving slowly to give myself a little more time to think carefully about my words. My fingers linger on the weight, sweat drips off my head and onto the hard grey floor. Quickly I grab the white towel sitting beside me and wipe at my face, leaning back. I know she means well, but I can just picture the the guy she wants me to message. Decked out in all black, torn clothing, a lot of band shirts and chains and at the very minimum, nine piercings in his face. “When was the last party you went to?”

“Last night, but what does-”

“A Monday night party. And how many people were there?”

“I don't fuckin know, a lot? Jason what-”

“How many of them did you actually know?”

“Jason, come on.”

“Thalia, I'm not the same kind of person you are.” I stand up from the bench, the towel draped around my shoulders. I run a hand through my damp hair and try to give my sister a smile in apology, but Thalia gets off the exercise ball and follows me in a huffy silence as I wipe off the weights I'd used and return them to the stand.

“Jason, I'm not stupid, okay? I wouldn't try to set you up with an asshole.”

I look at her over my shoulder and raise an eyebrow. I can feel sweat running down the side of my head and I pat at it again with my towel. This was really not how I wanted my morning to go. Discussing some grunge friend of my sisters that she apparently wanted me to date.

“And why hasn't he messaged me yet, huh? I haven't gotten any messages from someone claiming to be your friend and wanting to hook up.” I cross my arms and look at her expectantly, I've got her there. This _'not an asshole'_ guy friend of hers hasn't said hello either.

“Uh, because I told him not to?” Now Thalia's crossing her arms and looking me up and down like I'm the problem here. I blink.

“Why?”

“Because I told him you're a control freak and need to make the first move.”

My ears start to feel hot.

“Thanks.” It comes out a little acidly and Thalia actually grins at me and starts laughing. You would really think that her and Nico would get along better, considering that sometimes, they're practically the same person.

“Jason, seriously. I was talking to him yesterday at the park and when I asked him, he said he hadn't gotten any messages from you.”

“So you already knew?” We're getting odd looks from some of the other people in the gym, Thalia does stand out a little bit and we might be just a tad on the noisy side. “So why'd you ask me?” I make quick work of ducking into the mens room and throwing my towel at the dirty laundry pile. Normally I'd shower or at least rinse my face off before leaving, but Thalia was here and throwing my morning off.

“Because I wanted to know your reason of course. Just you being a judgmental freak like I thought.”

“Thalia! Can you blame me?” I gesture at her. From her high, black army style boots, ripped up black jeans and the spikes covering her clothing, to her dark lipstick, and black hair, we really couldn't look less or be less like siblings if we'd tried. You'd never know we were related to look at us. “Your kind of people and my kind of people don't mesh very well.”

“Pipers my kind of people and she used to be your _special_ kind of person.”  
  
I definitely couldn't argue with that point.  
  
“Yes well... Pipers not into the... hard stuff though. Just the skateboarding and rock music.”  
  
“And what makes you think my guy friend is any different? Seriously Jason?” The gym door closes behind us with a dull thud and I resist the urge to go back in and ignore my match making sister.“We hang out at the skate park. We shoot hoops. We go for _nachos!_ I didn't meet him at a party. I didn't meet him at a concert. I showed him how to do a sweet trick once and **BAM!** We became friends.” She crosses her arms and fixes me with a really disappointed look so reminiscent of our mother that I can't help but wince and look down.

“Jason.” She uses that firm, serious voice she uses only when something actually matters to her. “I wouldn't try to just hook you up with someone. I know you better than that.” She punches my arm and smiles at me and I can't help but feel like I should apologize. “I really think you'd like him. He's a nice guy. Like really.”

“Thalia...” Sighing I close my eyes and try to think, try to come up with the words to explain to her why I haven't messaged her friend yet. She'd told me about him a couple weeks back, that she knew a guy she thought I'd like and gave me his number. Thalia didn't really tell me much more about him, just that they usually hung out at the skate park.

It's not like I don't trust her, but she's part of a wilder crowd than I am and just imagining the conversation she must've had with her friend makes my head hurt and my face burn. _'You like dudes? You should get with my little brother! He finally fucking figured out he's gay two years ago!'_

“Jason.” She snaps her fingers in front of my face and lifts an eyebrow at me. “Just message him, okay? Do yourself a favour. You'll thank me for it later, I promise.” Then she actually winks at me and starts walking away.

It is true though. It was two years ago that I finally realized what my body, mind and heart had been telling me for years. Maybe I'd known it all along and was simply denying it to myself and everyone else; if I pretended it wasn't real, then it would go away. I don't actually know and that's scary. I don't know if I actually knew the truth about myself and was just pretending, or if I was genuinely completely oblivious.

Piper had been my girlfriend for years. I loved her. I still do. But it's not the kind of love she wanted, needed or deserved from me. She's forgiven me, but I don't know if can ever forgive myself for hurting her like I did.

Piper was the one who broke my silence for me. She was the one who finally gave voice to the nagging words in the back of my head. I should've said something sooner. I shouldn't have pulled her along like I did. I shouldn't have used her as my scapegoat.

But that's all in the past now, we've both moved on. Piper's moved on so well that she's taken to pointing out good looking men to me and all but ordering me to make a move. Between her and Thalia, you'd think I'd be swamped with guys. But no one they send my way is ever my type really. Nothing about them catches my eye. Sure, I've gone on a few dates, but I haven't really felt anything for anyone.

No, that's a lie too.

Piper broke the silence on my being gay and in the same breath sucker punched me with the name of the guy I was trying to convince myself I wasn't crushing on. Nothing came of it – nothing romantic anyway. Nico is one of my best friends and I love Will to death. I would never want to tear them apart, they're perfect for each other but, I will admit... I sometimes wish I'd said something when I had the chance, instead of pretending I was something I'm not.

“Thalia!” I call to my sister and she turns around, the morning sun glinting off the many buckles and spikes on her outfit. “You still haven't answered me.” I catch up to her and grinned. “Why are **you** awake and out at eight in the morning?”

She rolls her eyes and grimaces. 

“I needed Valdez to look at my body and he said he was busy today, but would do it at this **ungodly** hour of the morning.”

I stop walking and stare at her, she notices me standing and the weird look on my face and then -

“The body of my _BIKE_ Jason! God!” And then we both start laughing. A good, rich laugh that's warm and good and deep. “I think Frank and Hazel might oppose if I paid Leo for that!” She grins at me and wipes a tear from her eye and I can't help but laugh again.

“Yeah, they might have a little something to say.”

It's still early, but the rest of the city is coming to life. The coffee shops have their doors thrown open wide, the smell of toast and frying bacon from breakfast places floats over the street. Traffic is starting to pick up on the road as people begin to head to work. College students laden with their packs and projects are milling about looking stressed and sleep deprived.

The colours of fall are everywhere I look; the trees dotting the streets are a blaze with red and orange and yellow. People are decked out in the rich browns and warm greens and vibrant colours of the season. Scarves and hats and gloves and skirts and boots. Everything seems to glow in the gold light of the morning sun and my hands twitch by my side.

It's a typical busy morning brought to life by the splashes of colour and the sun and everything that people are. The way that girl adjusts her glittering hair accessory, the way that guy fixes his blue tie. That child over there clutching his mothers hand and skipping along in his bright green coat and yellow boots. The laughing little girl across the street wearing the frilliest, most purple skirt and dancing about.

My phone camera snaps picture, after picture. Stealing these precious, private moments of beauty and living and colours for me to lose myself in later. The college girl running down the street, her blonde pony tail streaming out behind her. Rolled white and blue papers clutched to her chest, tall brown boots pounding the concrete sidewalk. Her face glows with excitement and hunger and ambition – whatever those rolled papers in her hands are, she knows they will bring her the A grade.

I turn and aim my phone across the street and grin, snapping another picture.

A young man cradling a paper coffee cup in his pale hands winds his way through the crowd. He's skinny and pale and practically oozes morning unfriendliness, his darkness standing out amid the bright colours of the morning. But once he gets some of that coffee into him, I know his mouth will curl into a smile and his deep brown eyes will glitter with friendly snark and sarcasm. His hands will move across the white pages of his sketchbook and the lines he places there will write stories in colourless images.

“Nico.”

I didn't even know I said his name until Thalia punches my arm again.

“Are you coming with me or...?” She lifts an eyebrow at me and jerks her thumb over her shoulder.

Right. Leo's.

“Nah, I'd better head home and clean up. I have a lot I need to get done today.”

“Like texting my friend?” She grins. I laugh and tuck my phone back into my arm band.

“Like texting your friend.” 

“His name is Percy.” She tells me. “In case you forgot! Text him Jason! I mean it!” She points at me warningly and then turns and heads further down the street towards Leo's machine shop where her beloved bike must be.

It wasn't like I hadn't texted her friend on purpose. I'm just a busy guy. Between work, school and my freelance work, it had simply slipped my mind.

Standing in my kitchen, holding the post-it note Thalia had stuck to my fridge weeks ago with Percy's number on it, I find myself staring at it. I sigh and shake my head and set the note and my phone down on the counter. I'm really too busy for this sort of thing anyway.

My phone chimes and startles me. I look at it sitting there innocently, light blinking with a new message. Had Thalia given him **my** number knowing I'd back out? That didn't seem likely. She wouldn't just hand out my number like that. Would she?

Frowning I pick my phone back up.

_From: Thalia_

_'I know a picture is worth a thousand words to you.'_

My phone chimes again in my hand and underneath Thalia's grey message bubble, a photo appears: he clearly doesn't know his picture is being taken. He's on a metal railing at the skate park looking at someone just out frame (their arm and shoulder is in the shot). Percy... Is wearing a beautiful, genuine smile. One that looks like he wears it often and it's true and warm and is very likely full of laughter on the other side of this picture.

I let out a slow breath and lean back against the counter top, looking at the photo of Thalia's friend. Seconds passed, slowly turning into minutes. She doesn't text me anymore, just leaves me with the stolen photograph of her friend. I close my eyes and run a hand through my gross, sweaty hair and let my phone drop down to my side.

I look up and another photo catches my eye. It's stuck to my fridge with a magnet, a little strip of four pictures from one of those mall photo booths. It's from about a year and a half ago. Will and I are all grins and joy and looking into the camera, Nico in between us is struggling to get out. We hold onto him, laughing, my arms wrapped around him, Will holding his hand. I kiss the back of his head, Will kisses his nose. Nico smiles.

My heart clenches in my chest and my eyes sting. I remember that day so clearly. We hadn't done anything particularly special. They'd helped me out with a project, Will and I helped Nico out with one of his. We'd gone out to lunch, then Nico wanted to buy Will new shoes because flip flops weren't going to get him through the winter and Will wanted to buy Nico a floral print shirt because he wore way too much black for the summer.

I bought them both ice cream just because I thought it'd be good.

Will and I had to drag Nico out of the art supply store before he tried to spend more money than he actually ever had and then they had to drag **me** out of Shutter Up before I spent two months rent on a new lens. The whole days was made of the three of us, just doing stuff together and it had been awesome. We looked at things, tried things on, made jokes and had the time of our lives.

Will and I had spotted the photo booth first and before we'd even said anything, Nico was saying _'_ _ **Absolutely**_ _not!'_ and trying to escape through the food court. But there was no escaping Will and myself.

I look away from the photo strip and raise my phone again, looking at the picture of Percy. Thalia's phone isn't the best so the photo quality isn't that great, but there's no denying it. The guy in the picture with his wind swept dark hair and brilliant crooked grin is good looking and Thalia said he was really nice and that I would like him.

But do I want to?

I look back at the photo strip on the fridge for a long minute. My chest feels tight, my throat is hot and it almost hurts to breathe. I swallow heavily and look at my phone in my hand again.

Do I want to?

_To: Percy_

_'Hey, this is Jason. Thalia's brother.'_

…

_Message sent._

 

 

 

 


	3. Will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's chapter 3 guys! Hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think! :)

“Am I gonna be okay?”

“You're going to be just fine. Don't worry.” I placed some tape over the IV I'd just put into my patients – Mary's – arm. “What did you have for breakfast this morning?” I can hear the waver of her voice and I gently give her knee an encouraging squeeze. She's scared. Of course she is. Getting stung by a wasp is scary on its own, discovering you're allergic to them at age thirty-two can only be absolutely terrifying. But, she'll be okay. She'll be okay.

I smile at her again and radio the hospital to let them know we're inbound. She'll be okay.

“Did you see who Kayla and Austin brought in?”

I'm sitting on a bench outside the hospital, one arm stretched along the back of it, the other resting over my forehead. I peek at my partner coming over to join me from underneath my arm and grin, reaching out to take the offered coffee from him.

“No, I heard the truck come though. What's up?”

Lee sits down next to me and takes a long drink of his coffee, leaning back against the bench with me. He exhales a long sigh of contentment, as though the hot drink in his hand was exactly what he needed. I smile again. It probably was.

“Young guy.” Lee twisted his head to look at me. “Thought he'd impress some girls at the gym this morning.”

I wince. I can just imagine what he means by that. I wonder if it was at Jason's gym. I wonder if Jason saw what happened and make a mental note to ask him about it later.

“And how much is he regretting that idea now?”

Lee laughs, the joyous noise echoing into the cool Autumn air around us. He doesn't need to answer me, we both know _exactly_ how much Kayla and Austin's patient is regretting his macho display. I shift on the bench and lean forward, sipping at my coffee and enjoying a comfortable silence with my partner of the day.

Though the air is cool, the sun is warm on my body and makes me feel relaxed. This bench is one of my favourites and whenever I end up at this hospital, I always like to sit on it for a few minutes. It's just in one of the best places to relax and soak up some sun while taking a quick break. It's in a sort of little outdoor garden this hospital has in the back, right inbetween a couple of maple trees. In the Spring and Summer, I can usually hear birds singing up above me. Right now though, it's just the rustle of the light breeze through the red and orange leaves and Lee slurping his coffee beside me.

I glance at Lee. He's leaning back against the bench with the same contented look I probably had on my face a few minutes ago. One leg is lifted, ankle balancing on his other knee. He's got one arm stretched along the back of the bench, fingers tapping to whatever tune he's humming quietly. Lee is one of my favourite people to work with. He's calm and smart and really seems to care about people like I do. We get paired up a lot – I once heard someone refer to us as the dream team. Now, I don't know about that, but we do get along pretty easily and runs tend to go a lot smoother than they do when I'm parterned with, say Alice.

Truthfully though, I get along with pretty much anybody. I just happen to quite like working with Lee. He makes even hard days a lot easier.

“You ready to go?” His melodious voice suddenly asks me and I close my eyes for a moment, just breathing in the calm and then nodding.

“Yeah, let's do it.”

The walk back to the Ambulance bay was a pretty uneventful one – it usually is. We quickly set about double checking it over and restocking it.

“Guys almost done?”

I look over. Kayla Knowles is leaning through the side door of the ambulance and smiling cheerfully at me.

“Nah, just getting started.”

She gives a bubbly laugh and I grin.

“Already had a run? You guys are in for it today.” I laugh with her and close up the cabinet I was checking.  
  
“And how's your day been?”

“Ugh.” She rolls her green eyes, annoyance briefly flitting across her face. “Having one of those days where you question the general intelligence of humanity.” I laugh again and walk over, hopping out of the truck.

We all have those days. It's unavoidable in our line of work. You know when your buddy and your other buddy get those _great_ ideas and one of them ends up hurt? We're the guys that see said idea from the other side. We're the guys that see the regret of that _great_ idea first hand. As a result, I will admit I've become a little wary of my friends telling me that they've had _'the best idea ever!'_ I will literally be **that guy** every time.

Yeah, I'm a real hit at parties. But it's okay, it usually means that my friends parties end with no broken bones or blood loss and that is a success in my book!

“Where are you guys headed out to now?” I ask her, as we walk to the cabs of our respective ambulances.

“We're gonna go to the North End. You guys?”

“East.”

I pull open the passenger door and climb up into the seat. Lee is already sitting in the drivers seat, finishing off (another?) cup of coffee. Kayla grins at me and hops up into the drivers seat of hers and Austin's ambulance today. I give them a wave good bye and then Lee and I are out of the Ambulance Bay first.

You can see a lot of things from the window of a moving vehicle. You can see advertisements for places, you can see nice houses and pretty places to visit and most importantly, you can see people. You can see some small part of that guys day or that childs adventure. I know Nico does the same thing I do; wonder what happened to those people after that one quick moment on the street.

Where did they go, what did they do after this small pause? What brought them there in the first place? The answers to these questions are ones I'll never know, but it's fun to imagine. To make up fantastic stories about the fabulous secret lives these people must live. Sometimes Nico and I will do that, we'll thumb through his sketchbook at the end of the day, revisit the people he captured on paper as he solidifies their lines and their lives in his pages.

I do the same thing with Jason too. It's always fun to flip through his portfolio or one of his albums and drink in the array of colours and pictures. I'd always thought it was amazing how Nico drew the emotions and expressions on paper with pencil or pen. It's really just as fantastic the way Jason creates feelings with his camera and mad skills.

I've told them both before that I wish I could do that. To take that raw, human emotion and place it down on paper or behind a frame. It's incredible.

And there are so many people out right now. It's like the Autumn just draws people out of the woodwork. Everyone says it's the summer that's the fun season, the one where people flock to outdoor places in droves, but I don't think so. I'm pretty sure it's when the leaves turn colour and smells in the air change from watermelon and lemons to spices and baking bread and warm things.

Some people say it's just all the students coming back. But it's more than that. I mean sure, it is true, when the Universities and Colleges throw open their doors for the Fall, there is a very sudden, large influx of students from the world over. But's it's the regulars too, everyone seems to want to be outside and around other people more this time of year. Maybe it's because summers ending and they're getting ready for the long dark, cold of Winter. Maybe it's because the colours or the air of the season? Maybe there's just more to look at it this time of year. 

We stop at a red light and someone catches my eye. Like at every light we stop at to be honest. There's nothing particularly special about this young guy. Maybe it was his skateboard that did it, that caught my attention. He's standing at the street corner, waiting for the light to change just as we are, skateboard tucked under his arm, phone in his other hand.

Nah, I know exactly what about him caught my eye.

He's looking down at his phone and he has this rather radiant grin on his face. I wonder what message he received? I wonder what's happened that's made him so happy? I can't hear it, but I can see him laugh and it pulls a small laugh out of me. Whatever it is, there needs to be more of it in the world, the pure emotion that is joy.

I watch him in the mirror as we drive away, leaning back in my seat as he gets swallowed by the crowd and distance.

That grin of his was amazing. But was it actually what grabbed my attention? I mean I thought it was but, I frown and think about it for a second. Actually, the more I hold him in my minds eye, the more I'm pretty sure I recognized that man. Maybe it was a patient of mine? But even though nothing comes to mind, I'm more than certain I know that guy from somewhere.

“You okay?” I look at Lee and he glances back at me. “You look like someone pissed in your coffee.”

I shake my head and and wave off the comment.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I just thought I saw someone I knew, but I can't place him.”

“Could've been from anywhere Will.” 

I'm about to answer when our radio chimes in with a call. Lee picks up the walkie and responds and I flick the lights and the sirens on. I can worry about mystery boy later.

And weirdly enough I am still wondering about my mystery boy later on in the day. Normally, I forget about these things, with far more pressing at hand, like making sure no one chokes on their own blood from their award winning nose bleed of the day.

“I am so sorry!” The girl sitting up front with Lee cries again.

“S'obay...” My patient replies. She's covered in blood, is incredibly pale and shaking like a leaf. “S'accident.”

And it was. She'd been coming into the kitchen and her sister had been exiting and what resulted was a spectacular nose smashing.

“D'you tink it's boken?” She asks me thickly. I smile wryly at her as I check her blood pressure again and gently get her to resume leaning forward.

“Do you want the honest answer, or slightly more hopeful answer?” I ask her and she makes a valiant attempt at laughing.

“Both?”  
  
“Well,” I write down her vitals on the back of my glove. “Just because there's a lot of blood and swelling doesn't necessarily mean it's broken.”  
  
She smiles underneath the mass of gauze and red.

“But...” I look at her eyes, or rather the dark bruising around them and I grin and shake my head. “Let's keep it hopeful, shall we?” She giggles again and gives a forward jerk of her head, nodding as best as she can.

I hope I remember where I know that guy from. Because I do know I recognize him from somewhere. It's weird, I'm usually pretty good at getting these sorts of intrusive thoughts out of my head, but I guess since no ones dying or in danger of losing a limb, it's sneaking in there. It keeps looming in the back of my mind along with the idea that it has something to do with Nico. I keep wondering if maybe he was a friend of my boyfriends, but I'm pretty sure I know all of them and none of them looked like that guy.

I'm still wondering about it as we get our hopefully-not-broken-nosed patient down out of the ambulance and into a wheel chair. And I'll admit, I keep on wondering about it as I brief triage on her situation and settle myself against the wall next to her chair. We have to wait until a room opens up to bring our young, bloodied charge into it.

Since we're waiting anyway, I toss off a message to Nico, just asking if he's introduced me to anyone recently whose name I might have forgotten.

He doesn't respond for a couple hours, which is completely fine by me. We'd barely left our nosebleed case in the capable hands of a doctor when we were called out again. This time there was no room for thinking about my mystery boy. Lives were spread across the road and Lee, Kayla, Austin and I couldn't afford to think about anything but.

In the whirlwind of broken glass, blood, bandages and whispers to hold on, I'd completely forgotten about my mystery boy. Which is why I was taken so completely by surprise when I saw him again that evening.

You can't blame me really. I never would've expected to see the guy again, especially while on a call.

“That's the lifeguard that got him out of the pool.”

The receptionist leading the way to the pool deck points through one of the wall windows, her eyes saucer wide, hands shaking like leaves. I'm pulling the stretcher along behind me, Lee is pushing it. I know now where I recognize the guy from. A quick glance into the stands as we get into the pool area confirms my sudden suspicions. This is the pool that Nico comes and draws at and that guy...

“Percy! EHS is here!”

Now I know the colour of the eyes that looked up at me from the pages of Nico's sketch books.

He's down on the floor with the kid who'd taken the unfortunate spill, supporting the boys head and apparently making him feel like the floor is exactly where he wants to be. Normally kids are pretty scared in these situations, but this ones wearing a sunshine bright grin and is laughing at whatever the lifeguard – Percy – just said to him.

“Hey!” Percy chirps at me as a I crouch down beside them. “Gregory here decided to single-handedly demonstrate why we have the no running rule!” The kid looks at me sheepishly and Percy squeezes his shoulder. “Then he made a _beautiful_ dive right into the shallow end! Seriously, your form was great. I'm impressed!” I grin too. Percy's voice was so friendly, it carried with it a laugh and Gregory giggles quietly. “Clunked his head and knocked himself out with his own awesome.” Percy finished and I nodded, leaning to check over Gregory quickly.

“No blood or anything.” Percy supplies, “Goose egg on his head though.”

“I gave myself a headache.” Gregory sighs, and Percy lifts an eyebrow at him.

“You gave _me_ a heart attack.” I see the worry; the care; the concern on Percy's face and something inside me throbs for a moment. This is the first time we've ever spoken and yet I feel like I know him.

As Lee and I get Gregory secure on the stretcher, his mother frantically runs in (obviously having just arrived) and Lee quickly lets her know what's going on. Percy stepsaway the moment his mother comes up, but he's still focused on Gregory. He was going to come with us to to the hospital if she hadn't shown up, I'm sure of it. I take a step towards him.

“He'll be okay.” Percy blinks and looks at me and smiles. It's cute. His smile looks slightly crooked and I couldn't help but give one back.

“I know! You guys'll take care of him.” I nod and turn, grabbing the head of the stretcher. Just as we start to leave, my eyes catch movement in the stands and there's Nico. He's on his feet, sketchbook under his arm and looking down at the two of us and I'm not sure if it's the distance or not but, I can't quite read the expression on his face.

Lee begins to pull on the stretcher and I focus on my job. Time to take this kid to the hospital.

It's pretty late at night when I find myself dead tired, but still awake and staring at the ceiling. Nico is sleeping next to me, his breathing soft and rhythmic and normally I can fall asleep just listening to it. Just watching his face and wondering what he's dreaming about. But tonight, my mind keeps wandering.

It's not going over the excitement of the days calls, as it sometimes does. It's not revisiting the blood and glass and apologies and worries. No, tonight, my mind keeps wandering to slightly skewed smiles and green eyes filled with worry and concern. What was that look on Nico's face?

I sit up in bed and gently lift Nico's arm from my waist. I slip out of bed and quietly pad out of the room. I know Nico's school bag is on the floor near our apartment door, it's where he usually drops it when he gets home. It's also where he usually drops his sketchbook if I'm home before him, but he beat me here this time. It's probably in the living room.

It's dark, but I can see the lamp enough in the light coming from the city outside to get it turned on. Spots dance in front of my vision for a minute at the sudden burst of yellow. Blinking them away I look towards the couch and there it is. Nico's sketchbook. There's also some pencils and an eraser there, but I know better than to touch both those _and_ Nico's book.

That's just asking for a famous Di Angelo spoon bending glare.

I walk over and put the pencils and eraser onto the coffee table and then pick up the book. Before I open it though, I sit down and drag the blue fleece throw on the back of the couch off and wrap it around my naked body. I should've grabbed a shirt or something, it's chilly out of bed!

Once settled, I open the book and am greeted by the cheerful visage of Jason. He's grinning up at me from a page as though he were sitting across a table from me. The self-assured happiness that is our dear friend beams off the paper at me so strongly that I smile back down at him, my fingers touching his drawn cheek. Beside him, there's a girl sitting at a table with one leg crossed over the other. She's resting her chin on her hand and looking out the cafe window, a far away look on her face, the steam of her mug curling up by her face.

She looks so sad. I wonder what upset her.

On the next page there's a grumpy old man sweeping his step, the deep creases lining his face giving him an especially cranky look. Underneath him are someones hands. Beside those, a little girl jumping rope, intense concentration on her young face.

I turn the page. I'm looking down at myself and I can feel my cheeks get warm and my eyes grow wet. I'm sitting in the big, overstuffed armchair we have in the corner. Wearing my favourite sweater and reading a book. I'm chewing on my thumb and look as though I'm torn between fear and excitement. I look way better in this drawing than what I see whenever I look in the mirror; the freckles on my nose look so much cuter done in graphite by Nico's hand than they actually are, I swear.

I linger on this page for a moment, drinking in the way Nico sees me. I can feel this fuzzy sort of warmth spread out from my chest right down to my toes. I look away from the book and over towards our bedroom door. I'm not sure how long I sat there like that, in the quiet of our apartment, with just the ticking of the clock on the wall and the various bumps of the neighbours for my soundtrack.

I turn the page and my heart skips a beat.

When Nico draws Jason or myself or _anyone_ for the matter, you can feel our joy, our sadness, our anger. You can hear our laugh, weep our tears, or yell our frustrations. You can see the wonder, the majesty and the beauty of our souls on the page.

I look at the lifeguard standing by the pools edge and something inside me, hurts.

I flip back a few pages and there's another one. He's in the water, arms crossed on the pool edge. It's the same thing, something about this picture is upsetting me. And another one, he's standing by the pool, one arm by his side, hand holding a life preserver, his other arm is crossed over his body, resting on his shoulder, but that same ache settles into my stomach.

There is no warmth or happiness in this drawing. That crooked smile isn't hiding a laugh or giving reassurance.

I close the book and my teeth bite into my lip. There's something very wrong here. I open the book back up and it falls to the most recent page and there we are. Standing by the pool, talking. This drawing is mostly just faint lines and quickly sketched in features, Nico clearly hadn't gotten to finishing this one up by the time I got home, but like the other ones with Percy in them, there's something distinctly wrong about it.

It's hard to explain. It's just a drawing a right? But for all the life and wonder and merriment and emotions drawn on these pages, Percy is cold and distant. I'd never noticed it before. I've looked at his face countless times in Nico's sketches and never realized how wrong they were. Everyone else looks as though you could reach out lift them right from the page, like you could breathe the life into them and they'd hold your hand and tell you their story.

Percy is completely untouchable.

“What's wrong?”

I look up. Nico is leaning against the wall and looking at me curiously. My fingers grip the sketchbook tightly.

“Will? What's the matter?” He's walking across the floor quickly now and sitting down beside me. “Nightmare?” He asks, taking my face into his cool hands. I swallow and shake my head, not entirely sure what's wrong with me.

Maybe it's because I've seen his smile for real now. Maybe it's because I've heard his laugh and seen the care and tenderness he has.

Nico's searching my face with his eyes, trying to read what has me upset. I hope he tells me what it is when he finds it, because I'm honestly not sure myself. I look back down at the book. Nico looks at it too.

The clock on the wall ticks.

“It was Percy wasn't it?”

Whatever Nico was expecting, that wasn't it. He blinks at me, eyes going a little wider in surprise. One of his hands had fallen down to mine, his thumb had been softly stroking my wrist. It stilled now as his brain derailed with my question and tried to catch up.

“Pardon?”

I touch Percy's cold face on the paper. It's the same face I saw for real the first time today. Why hadn't I noticed before?

It's the eyes. It's the way Nico is drawing his eyes. There is no welcome in them. Why am I so disturbed by this?

“That guy you were in love with before you met me and Jason. It was Percy. Him.” I nod down at the drawing and Nico stares at it. The clock ticks. Then he makes an annoyed sound and takes the sketch book from my lap, closes it and sets it on the coffee table.

“Will.” He rubs his eye and gives me a bland look. “It's three-thirty in the morning.” he says this like it somehow answers my question.

“It was him! Right?” I don't know why this means so much to me right now. Maybe three-thirty in the morning really is the answer.

“And you've come to that conclusion... How?” Nico is looking at me like I've lost my mind. He's also twisting his silver ring on his finger, something he only does when he's nervous.

“Because!” I gesture at the book sitting innocently on the table. “You draw him all... All...” My fingers twitch as I search for the word. “Wrong.”

“Wrong.”

“Yeah.”

The clock ticks some more. I'd never noticed how loud that thing was before. We're both staring at each other. Nico twisting his ring, me with my usually steady hands twitching. Then, like on some unspoken cue, we both explode at the same time, jumping up from the couch.

“What do you mean _**wrong**_?!”

“He's your unrequited past love!”

We both stare at each other, frozen still. Then that same unspoken cue happened and we leap into action. He seizes his sketch book and rips it open to a Percy page and I grab at my hair.

“I can't believe I didn't notice before!”

“It's not _**wrong**_! That's what he looks like!”

Nico's looking at me rather like he wants to brain me with the book and I'm pretty sure I'm looking at him like he's grown an extra head.

“Notice _**what**_!?”

“You haven't captured his eyes at all!”

We keep shouting at the same time and gesturing together and I think from an outside perspective it would probably look very funny. Two nude guys, yelling at each other over a sketchbook in the wee hours of the morning.

“Look!” I point at Percy's face on the page. “It's... It's wrong. He looked at me today! I talked to him!” I point again, harder somehow. “And you've drawn him... Cold.”

Nico blinks and looks down at his sketchbook in genuine surprise.

“What? No I...” He pauses, studying the page. He flips to another. “Haven't...”

It's quiet in our apartment again. Nico is frowning and flipping through his sketchbook and I'm pretty sure he's forgotten that I'm still standing here with him. Slowly the frown on his face grows deeper and darker. 

“Huh...” He puts the sketchbook down and walks over to the bookshelf, seizing one of his full sketchbooks from it, he flips through that one too.

Then he pauses and looks at me from by the shelf. Like earlier, I can't read his expression.

“You're right.”

 


	4. Percy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the Percy chapter everybody! I feel like everyone's been waiting for this one. I hope it doesn't disappoint! Enjoy! :)

I can hold my breath for a long time. I could probably time it and find out just how long in minutes and seconds, but I don't really care enough about that sort of thing to do it. I just know that so far, I've been able to hold it longer than my dad could and that's good enough for me. How long could my dad hold his breath for? I don't know. I just know it wasn't long enough.

My breath does the familiar catch as I step off the stair and onto the diving platform and I feel my heart do its usual jump in my chest. I can hear its frantic question pumping through my veins, wondering if this is it; if this is the day everyone else finds out how long I could hold my breath for, if this is when it won't be long enough.

Then my legs are moving and carrying me quickly forward and my hands are arching up over my head and I'm throwing myself into the air. The ceiling, the stands, the lights; it's all swirling around me with the wind roaring in my ears, then the surface of the water is rushing up to meet my hands and then silence. Silence and bubbles and I'm being cradled in the most terrifyingly beautiful place I love to be and I have no idea when I started holding my breath in.

“You're such a show off Percy.”

I finish pulling my t-shirt down and glance over my shoulder, grinning at the girl leaning in the doorway.

“And you're a friggen perv!” I grab my towel from the bench behind me and emit a high pitched squeal, holding the towel in front of my body. “Not supposed to be in here! Eek!” I can _hear_ her eye roll as she snorts and retreats from the doorway, said door banging shut with a dull thud.

I grin and chuckle to myself, rolling up the towel and shoving it into my bag. I pull my hoodie over my head and then crouch down to pull my sneakers on. I throw my backpack over my shoulder, run a hand through my damp hair and then I am out!

Annabeth is leaning against the wall outside the change room.

“You were the only one in there, dork!” She sticks her tongue out at me.

“Annabeth!” I clap a hand to my chest. “I can't have you oogling my virgin body – Why are you laughing!?” We're both laughing now, the sound loud in the near empty building. Annabeth has fallen into step beside me as we head out to the main lobby area where the receptionist, is waiting to lock up.

“Everyone out?” He asked me, standing by the security panel.

“Yeah, Lou checked the women and neutral change rooms on their way out and I poked my head into the pool room quick. It's just us left.” Castor nods at me and pulls down the door on the code panel, punching in the numbers. After everyone leaves and the building gets all quiet and echo-y, I always find the beeps from the security system to be unnaturally loud. I remember the first night I closed, I was pretty sure every hair on my body stood on end when those beeps broke the quiet.

It doesn't startle me quite as much anymore, but they are still a little unnerving. It just sounds so cold and artificial. Which makes total sense. It's a fucking security system, it's not meant to sound inviting.

The three of us walk outside into the cool evening, our breath just visible in the air. It gets pretty chilly now after the sun goes down. It kinda sucks. I always forget to bring a jacket cause my sweater is fine in the afternoon.

“Saw the dive Perce.” I blink and glance at Castor. He pulls the key from the lock and gives the door a little tug, making sure it's shut. “Very nice.” He grins at me and I smile. I don't know Castor that well, but he's a pretty quiet guy, so the praise was nice.

“Thanks man! I couldn't disappoint the kids, you know?” He just grins at me again and lifts his hand in a wave, heading towards the parking lot. I wave back and then Annabeth and I are walking down the stairs to the sidewalk.

“It really was a nice dive you know. What brought that on?

“You think so? One of the kids I teach _begged_ me to do something cool before they left.” I shrug, my hands snug in my hoodie pockets. “It was just a dive.”

“Just a dive he says!” Annabeth cries, throwing her hands up. “I only twisted and flipped my body while willingly falling through the air from a height that makes most people cringe. But it was just a dive.” Her laugh makes me laugh again and duck my head. I run another hand through my hair and smile down at the sidewalk as we walk. “When did **you** get so humble?” She pushes my shoulder.

“Hey, I've always been humble. That's me! Perseus Modesty Jackson. Yep.” My hand makes a dull thunk as I hit it against my chest and I know Annabeth is rolling her eyes at me again without looking at her.

“I thought your middle name was Logan.” She teased and we both share a chuckle, the sound making the air feel a little less cold around us.

“Eh, it might be something like that. IDK man, I don't remember.”

“Percy!” Annabeth pushes me again, looking scandalized. “ID **K**? Did you actually just say that out loud?”

Oh man. I did. I _totally_ did. She is never gonna let me live this one down. It's going right up there the famous BRB incident of ninth grade, the LOL of eleventh and my YOLO binge a few years ago.

“Seriously!?” She's looking at me like I've lit a stack of dictionaries on fire with my vocal text slang. It's not like I meant that to slip out. I am going to put the blame squarely on my little brother for this verbal typo.

“It's cause of Tyson!” I groan and grip at my hair, my cheeks feeling kinda hot. “Paul got him a new phone and he's so excited with it that he like...” I tap my forehead looking for the right word. “Rapid fire texts! Half the time it's a bunch of ana... Acro... Acrym -” I can feel my left eye start to twitch as I stumble over the word.

“Acronyms.”  
  
“Yes! Thank you! You know how he is when he gets a new thing he likes!”

“Insisting you do it too?”

“Mum tells me nothing makes him happier than getting a text from me. And if I can fit an ana.. acro... One or two of those things in there, he thinks it's bomb because it's full sentences made short.”

“And you said it out loud because...?” How she gets that eyebrow to slowly go up in that way that says she's laughing at me on the inside, I'll never know. Both mine fly up into my hair whenever I try to do it.

“Cause I gotta say them out loud first you know? Make sure they make sense. Ugh.” I bury my face in my hands as Annabeth bursts into laughter. “Apparently he's writing them down.”

“Smart!”  
  
“Course! It's Tyson, what did you expect?” My little brother is big and looks like the most uncoordinated, klutzy oaf ever. But he's actually very gentle and delicate and the nicest guy you could ever hope to meet. He's got a heart as big and open as the sky, a laugh so wonderful you've just gotta laugh with him if you hear it and while he's you know, not the swiftest, give him a sec and he understands things a lot better anyone else can.

A lot of people are afraid of him, but that's because they're too busy looking through the eyes of everyone else, instead of their own.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” I'd messaged Annabeth earlier today asking if she was free tonight. She said she had homework (she _always_ has homework), so I told her to come do it at my place cause I wanted to talk about something. I'll bet she's been dreading the conversation all day. The last time I'd said those taboo words, there was some very unmanly crying involved, a lot of hugging and then an awkward silence that lasted roughly two weeks.

Yeah, that was when we broke up. But you know, that was five years ago, so eh. She's still my best friend and at the risk of sounding like a total sap, my soulmate. But just, not like that. You know? Annabeth is all academics and success and architecture and I'm all, swimming, surfing and cheeseburgers.

It's way better this way, trust me.

“Mmm...” I draw a breath and look up. The orange glow of the street and building lights somehow giving me inspiration. They suck as stand in stars, but it's what I've got to work with here. “You remember middle and high school?”

“Unfortunately.”

We both cringe, cause really, who wants to remember the travesty that is middle school. Good god.

“And you... You remember Bianca?”

“...Yes?” There it is. The subtle voice change that I was expecting. We're not laughing and joking anymore. Annabeth is armed and fully ready to let fly an arsenal of reassurance that it wasn't my fault and that I'm okay and that it's okay to be upset and blah, blah, blah. It's fine. I'm fine and we've been through this so many damn times.

“Annabeth.” I loop my arm through hers and tug her close. “Chill. It's not that.” I laugh and I can feel her relax just a bit. We round the corner and my apartment building looms up ahead. “I'll tell once we're in. More comfy that way.”

It took a long time before I came to terms with what happened. A really long time. It wasn't until I'd moved away for a short lived stint in college that I managed to get past it. I mean, it makes sense. Even as a thirteen year old with a childhood as rough as mine was, having a classmate and friend literally die in my arms was pretty fucking intense.

It was eleven years ago and as we walk into my apartment, I can't help my look at my hands again. I still wonder if there was something else I could've done. I might've accepted that it wasn't my fault, but I don't think I'll ever stop wondering that.

Annabeth makes herself right at home, as usual. I'd be insulted if she did any less. She dumps her stuff in the living room as I grab my dogs leash (its mainly for show) and get my overly happy to see me – “ **Down Mrs.O'Leary**!” - pooch ready to go outside for her, you know. Business.

After a friendly chat with the guy who owns the St.Bernard down the hall (he was doing the same thing with Snuffles), Mrs. O'Leary and I head back up and find Annabeth standing in the kitchen, a can of coke in her hand.

“What's with the artwork?” She points at my fridge.

“Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Now I'm definitely interested.” We both lean back against my counter and stare at my fridge. Mrs.O'Leary sits down and leans heavily against my legs and I absently scratch her ears. There's the usual things like grocery lists I never remember to grab, coworkers phone numbers I already have in my phone and a list of only the best Chinese and pizza delivery restaurants in my area. Then, there's a couple newer additions: there are two drawings on my fridge, both held up by smiley-faced magnets.

One is an adorable drawing of me standing by a pool filled with happy kids. I love this thing. It gives me a warm tingly feeling every time I look at it. It's been like, a week, but each morning since, I've drank my coffee while standing here, in this very position looking at it.

The other one...

“So yeah, you remember Bianca.”

“Mmhm.” Annabeth nods and sips her coke.

“Do you remember her brother? Nico?”

Her fingers tighten just slightly on the can, but she nods.

“Yeah?”

“I'm pretty sure that was him that drew that. Not _**that**_ one. The other one.”

We both look at the piece of paper hanging on my fridge. It's three different sketches all of me. One of my face, one of my hand holding the life preserver and one of me standing by the pool. I look all calm and way cooler than I actually am I swear.

“Really? He's gotten better.” 

“Yeah.”

Nico hates me.

At least, he still did when I last saw him up close and personal six years ago. We never really talked in my last two years of high school and honestly, most of our conversations leading up to that silence consisted of me crying, “I'm _sorry!_ ” and him telling me to stay away from him as he stalked me around the school.

Yeah, it was weird. Nico Di Angelo was a pretty strange kid after I got his sister killed. He'd been a pretty enthusiastic, happy-go-lucky sort of boy before that and then Bianca's death changed him. I don't blame him for hating me, I really don't. But it was really hard to do as he said and leave him alone when he followed me around (from a distance mind you - but I'm not blind) on breaks and at lunch time.

He stopped like... stalking me in eleventh grade and actually elected to talk to me a little bit. Never had much to say, but I could never forget the look in his eyes. Maybe they weren't filled with malice and hate anymore, but he looked at me like I betrayed him. It messed me up for a long time.

When I was in my final year, Nico came up to me one day and asked if he could draw me. For art class and to be honest, at this point I was willing to do anything if it meant he might despise me a little bit less.

I guess we were all kinda strange back in grade school. Puberty and shit could have a weird effect on the brain. Anyway, I noticed after I moved away and didn't have my hateful little shadow anymore, things got a little easier. My hands started feeling warm again. I started to forgive myself and eventually actually did it. Mostly.

“You don't think he's...?” 

“Nah, I don't think he's stalking me again.” I wave off the question and sigh, pushing away from the counter. I walk out to the living room, Annabeth and my dog following me. I drop onto the couch, Mrs.O'Leary jumps up beside me and dumps her head in my lap and Annabeth gets to her homework. “I think it's just some weird coincidence.”  
  
I'd only started working at the pool when I moved back to the city about a year and a half ago. Pretty sure I nearly fell into the damn thing when I saw Nico in the stands with his sketchbook. I didn't think there was _any_ way it could be him. The others working at the pool told me he was from the local art college and that he'd asked the director for permission to sit and draw. Said it was great practice and he'd been coming there for a long time.

I thought maybe I was wrong, that it wasn't him and usually pushed it from my mind, just some art student trying to get his grades up. Then Bianca happened. That adorable little kid who still shows up for swim practice with a busted arm (in her defense, her sister also swims at the same time). When I saw her sit next to him in the stands the other day, I just knew something was going to happen.

I saw his face when I said Bianca's name. He looked like I'd just slapped him. Then she pulled me up there to him and he seriously looked like he wanted to ground to just open up and swallow him then and there. Course, that might've been because Bianca was trying to show off his artwork. But, whatever. He booked it faster out of the pool area than I believed psychically possible. One minute he was there, totally mortified and then next he was just a dark shadow running around the corner and out.

But not without giving me the drawing.

I kind of remember the way he used to draw in high school and Annabeth is right, he has gotten better. Like, a lot better. My hands fall still on Mrs.O'Leary.

“Think he still hates me?”

Annabeth's pencil stops moving across the grid paper and I can tell she knows we've gotten to the whole point of this conversation. She looks at me.

“I don't know Percy.” She smiles at me all sad like. I hate it when she has the expression, it makes my heart ache. “You'll have to ask him.”

Right. Like that was going to happen.

“In other exciting news!” Things were getting a little deep and emotional and I didn't like seeing Annabeth upset, so I figured it was time for a topic change. “I have a date tomorrow!”

She smirked at me and looked back down at her homework and resumed drawing her building plans or whatever the hell she was doing. There was a pencil, an eraser and a ruler involved and it looked complicated.

“Oh really? And who is the lucky individual?”

“A booooy-!” I sang at her, grinning lazily. Her eyes flicked up to me. I can see her internal debate, torn between being concerned for my well being and excited that I'm going on a date. She's trying to decide the best way to approach this new information I've given her. I grin and she grins back and we silently agree to keep moving forward.

“Giving the 'stronger' sex another chance are we?” She actually used air quotes at me and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, they can't all be dipshits.” Her snort tells me she thinks otherwise. “You do realize I'm right here, yeah?”

“Mmhmm~!” I stare at her head in mock disgust for a minute.

“Annabeth, you wound me.” I clap two hands over my chest and Mrs.O'Leary takes that as her cue to paint the side of my face with her tongue. While I fend off my dog, Annabeth just laughs that awful little superior laugh she does and picks up her coke, looking at me smugly. “It's not like you women are perfect either. Remember Kelli?”

We both cringe and decide we would rather **not** remember Kelli. Annabeth leans back on her hands gives me the look that says she's waiting for me to spill the beans on my new Prince Charming. Unfortunately there's not a whole lot of beans to spill yet.

“So, who's this guy, where'd you meet him? What's he like?”

“He's Thalia's brother. I haven't met him yet and I don't know. Thalia says we'd get along great.” I grin, pulling my phone out of my pocket and open the conversation I have going with the mystery man.

“Thalia's brother?” Annabeth looks a little scared and I laugh again. “You sure you can handle a Grace?” She's looking me up and down and I know she's picturing the intense woman that is our friend Thalia.

“Pfft, please. I'm sure I can handle Thalia's younger brother.”

 

I can't handle Thalia's younger brother. There's no fucking way.

Being the gentleman that I am, I decided to walk Annabeth to her first class this morning. I figured since she was kind enough to stay up late and chat with me and steal the blankets and take up like, ninety-percent of the bed and then wake me up to work my _impossible_ coffee maker while she boarded herself up in my bathroom for fourty minutes, it was the least I could do. Super nice girl. No idea why she's single.

Anyway, since we were going out, I figured it'd be a great time to walk Mrs.O'Leary too. It was a nice morning, I was off today and walks are like, her favourite thing second to the dog park. After we walked Annabeth to school, Mrs.O'Leary and I decided to just meander about town for awhile, why not? So we walked about, went through a park, made a few new friends out for their morning walk and generally enjoyed the morning.

Then I decided I wanted a warm drink to walk home in. Not that my fall jacket and awesome blue scarf weren't enough. I just figured it's autumn, I'm wearing a scarf, I'm a bisexual twenty-something boy. According to internet I should be writing a novel, wearing sexy glasses and probably hooked up to a pumpkin spice latte IV. Not wanting to _completely_ let the internet down, I figured I could partially do at least one of those things. Latte it was. Whether it'd be pumpkin spice or not, I hadn't decided yet.

And I still hadn't decided when my brain decided to derail and abandon me in the coffee shop I'd wandered into.

“What can I get for you?”

His name tag said Jason. Thalia's brother was Jason. They had to be the same guy right? I mean, how many Jasons could there possibly be?

Yeah, I'm not the brightest crayon in the box when my brain bails on me mid-thought. But to my credit, I did remember both Thalia and Jason himself saying he worked in a coffee shop on the corner of Tantalus and Titus. And I'm pretty sure this was that very corner.

“Jason?” Why did I say his name? He looked at me and blinked slowly.

“Yes?” Then he smiled a very friendly-barista type of smile. “How badly do you need a coffee this morning, sir?”

I'm sorry, it's just no one told me you were _**handsome**_!

“You're Thalia's brother?”

And then he blinked at me again, his eyes grew a little wider and I can't help it, I started laughing. I completely lost my head and just started giggling. I know. Not my best moment. 

“I think I'm a little early for our date! Sorry!” Why am I still laughing!? It's okay, though, he's started laughing too.

“You think?” His laugh is deep and rich and throaty and I was not prepared to suddenly bump into him without warning. “You're only what, ten hours early?”

“Give or take five minutes.”

I'm sure we looked like we were crazy. The two of us, one at the counter and one behind it laughing and giggling for no discernible reason other than we were both caught totally off guard. At least he looked put together and cleaned up being at work. I looked like shit.

“What's so funny?” Another voice cut smoothly into our chuckles and for an instant I felt like I do whenever I'm about to jump into the water. Is this my drowning day?

“Nothing Nico, nothing, it's just... Hoo ~!” Jason took off his glasses and rubbed a tear away from his eye and I looked at the counter, at my sneakers, at Jasons name tag, at the sweets dish on the counter. Anywhere but at Nico. Apparently they know each other. I wonder how. I wonder why.

“Friend of yours Jason?” I could feel him looking at me. My breath was still in my lungs. I'm not sure when I started holding it. He was wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt with a skull on it. He looked more like Thalia's brother than her actual brother did. There was a thick silver ring on his hand and he was holding one of the cafe's ceramic mugs. It was green with brown flowers bordering the top. It was very pretty. I'm only noticing these things because it's keeping me from looking at his face.

“Not exactly?” Jason sounded like he didn't know how to answer that question, neither did I. “He's um...”

“Thalia's.” I took a breath with her name. I grinned at them both, my hands were sweaty fists in my jacket pockets. “I'm a friend of his sisters. Just thought I'd say hi!” I lifted one hand in a wave, hoping my left eye wasn't actually twitching as violently as I thought it was. I hid it by scratching at it real quick and running the hand through my hair. Smooth Jackson. Very smooth. They definitely saw nothing.

What was I so afraid of?

“So I'll uh, see you later!” I backed up a few steps, winked at Jason and killed whatever remaining chance I might've had at a good date later by doing the finger gun thing. Oh god I actually did the finger gun. Thalia was going to beat me with her skateboard. This is what happens when I get nervous!

My hands felt hot, my face felt hot and my knees felt like they'd melted all over the coffee shop floor. I had untied Mrs.O'Leary and we were at least three blocks away before I noticed my empty hand. I never actually ordered a drink.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! It'll be back to Nico with the next chapter. :)


	5. Nico

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder where the story will take us THIS chapter? Let me know what you think! ~ Enjoy!

I know I give Jason's coffee a lot of praise, but truly, the man knows how to make a _good_ cup of coffee. It's a rare talent and one he's been blessed with. You can sit there and say it's the machine in the cafe that does all the work, that he just pushes a button and holds the cup under the stream but you'd be wrong. You'd be so very wrong. See, I like coffee. I like _good_ coffee and I am very picky. If it's not good, I won't drink it. Well, no that's a lie. I'll still drink it, but I certainly won't enjoy it.

It doesn't matter where he makes the coffee. It doesn't matter if it's here at the cafe, at his place or at mine. It always tastes just right. It's always exactly what I want, every single time. There is very little that can put a smile on my face like a cup of coffee from Jason Grace.

I breathe in the rich, deep smell, cradling the warm mug with my hands. My eyes are closed and the typical sounds of the little cafe blend into a soothing white noise in the background. I didn't sleep well last night, so this is just what I needed. I open my eyes and watch Jason for a minute, I can't help but smile.

He's chatting with another of the regulars here and he looks just so relaxed and at home, like there's no where he'd rather be than right here, serving sweets and warm drinks.

I've loved Jason for as long as I've loved Will. Not that he knows that. Jason that is, Will knows.

I met them both the same night, four years ago. You'd think a life changing evening like that I'd remember in vivid detail, but I don't. I don't remember much of the weeks leading up to the night and even the weeks after it are kinda hazy. I just didn't care enough to commit them to memory.

I don't like to think about it. I was sick and needed help and didn't care enough to go get it. I just did not **care**.

I do remember the morning I started coming coming here every day though. That was a big day for me. I'd had a long night. I didn't want to get up. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to **be** that day. I'd thought about calling Will, but couldn't bring myself to. We'd only been dating for about six months, he didn't want to hear about my issues at _oh my fucking god o'clock_ in the morning. At least, that's what I'd told myself.

I don't remember what I was thinking about, as I lay there curled up and alone in the dark. But I do remember the little thought that just suddenly whispered in my mind. It was quiet, but it mattered so much more than whatever else my brain had been saying to me.

_'Jason was sad yesterday.'_

It was such a small thought, but once it happened, I couldn't stop thinking about it. Why had Jason been sad? Why would he be sad? What could've hurt him? Shouldn't someone make sure he's okay? What if no one else noticed?

Suddenly, getting out of bed was important. Someone needed to ask Jason if he was okay.

I've more or less been a regular here ever since. You'd think I'd get tired of drinking the same coffee almost every day for two years. But I don't always get the same thing. I've gone through the menu multiple times and I try every seasonal and specialty thing they come up with. Food, drink. Either or. Except, I won't do anything with _avocado_ in it because I do **not** need that weird green butter in my life.

I smile down at my page and Jason smiles back up at me, my pencil shading in around his eyes. I wonder if my teacher knows how blue Jason's eyes are. Probably not, I don't think I've ever turned in a colour drawing of him. Everyone has their preferred tools and me, I like the black and white and all the shades of grey in between. You don't need full colour to bring something to life, the stark lines of graphite and charcoal and ink can pull raw emotion and feeling from the nothingness of a blank page, just the same, if not more effectively than colours can.

That's not to say I don't use colours though.

I look up at Jason carrying a tray with a steaming mug and slice of cake on it. I tug my back pack closer and rummage through it, grabbing a box. I hear Jason's laugh from across the room and grin, setting the metal box on the table and flipping it open. Maybe it's time my life drawing teacher learns that Jason has blue eyes.

Often when I'm sitting and drawing people, the lines are very sketchy, just swiftly poured onto the pages of my book in the moment, then later I'll go back and define them; I'll solidify them on the white and make them real and know that I didn't just imagine them, that they were really there. It's a pretty quiet morning in the cafe today, so that's what I've been doing this time. Going over the barely there lines.

I've finally finished Jason, the kaleidoscope of blue that are his eyes glitter up at me from the dark greys and whites of the pencil and paper.

It looks nice. I like it. I wonder why I never did that before. What's that saying? The eyes are the window to the soul? Maybe I'll do it more often.

I frown at my empty cup, when had I finished it? Maybe I'll get another one today. Or maybe I'll go find somewhere to draw, it's nice out. I look out the window. People are walking by, cars are driving past; everything looks like as it does every morning really. Actually, no. That's new. There's a large black dog tied to the fence outside, he wasn't there a moment ago was he?

I hear someone laugh and then Jason starts laughing and I'm sure I injure my neck with how fast I whip my head around.

Percy Jackson is at the counter making Jason laugh.

They're laughing together for some reason and I want so _**bad**_ to be over there and laughing too. The feeling is intense and powerful and _**terrifying**_ and I was not prepared for it. I want to know what's so funny. I want to know what's made Jason lose composure like that. I want to see what I'm getting wrong in my drawings of Percy; what is it that Will saw the other day that I haven't been seeing from the stands?

I'm out of my chair and walking across the floor and over to the counter. Their laughter sounds so jovial and real and I just really want to be there right now.

“What's so funny?” The question leaves me before I've even had a chance to really think about it. I look at Jason, studying him curiously. Did he know Percy? I know I haven't met all of his friends, but he's certainly talked about them enough. I don't think he's ever mentioned a Percy before.

“Nothing Nico, nothing, it's just... Hoo~!” How do they know each other? I'm pretty damn sure I would have noticed if Jason ever mentioned knowing a Percy. It's not exactly a common name. I look down at my coffee mug. Why did I bring it over with me? I want to know how they know each other. How is Percy able to make _Jason_ laugh like that. I lick my lips and look up at him.

“Friend of yours Jason?” He won't look at me.

It's funny. When he was standing in front of me in the stands at the pool and Bianca wanted to show him my drawing, the last thing I wanted was for him to look at me. Now I wonder why he won't.

“Not exactly? He's um...” What was that supposed to mean?

“Thalia's!” Percy looks up and grins at us both, but won't meet my eye and... “I'm a friend of his sister's. Just thought I'd say hi!” Why is he afraid of me? “So I'll uh, see you later!” Why is Percy Jackson afraid of me?

He backs out of the cafe with about as much dignity as I had when I left the pool that day. Part of me kinda wants to go after him, because nothing about what just happened here made any sense. Another part of me is rooted to the floor and screaming.

Jason isn't laughing anymore. He's actually kind of pouting. My voice had apparently left with Percy, so all I can do is swallow and tilt my head at Jason, hoping he understands my silent question.

“You know... I think I've seen him somewhere before.” He looks confused. I swallow again and force out a nod, moving my stiff fingers.

“You have.” I cough and clear my throat. “You have seen him before.” Jason is looking at me curiously now and I just jerk my head over towards my vacated table with my sketch book sitting open on it. I don't think he quite catches my meaning.

I roll my eyes and hand him my empty mug.

“I've drawn him before, Grace.” And I walk back over to my table, my legs feeling weird and like they don't want to bend properly. Does Percy know who I am now? Does he remember me from high school? I sit down heavily in my chair and flip to a page with Percy on it in my book. I haven't drawn him since Will pointed out I've been getting his face wrong.

If he does remember me, why is he afraid of me? I know our relationship was kinda weird back then, but I don't think I ever gave him a reason to be scared of me.

Was it the drawing? It was probably the drawing. He probably doesn't remember me and just thinks I'm some weird stalker. Oh god...

I groan and put my face in my hands.

Jason sets my freshly filled mug on the table for me and I hear him pick up my book.

“Yeah! That is him!” Except his face is all wrong. “Thalia should've just pointed at this instead of sending me that shitty picture.”

Picture? Thalia sent Jason a picture of Percy?

“Why would Thalia send you a picture of Percy?”

“We have a date tonight.”

“...Excuse me?” Did I wake up in the goddamn twilight zone today!? What is going on? Percy wasn't into guys! He had only ever had eyes for Annabeth. I'm pretty sure they got married after high school.

Jason laughed, apparently oblivious to my sudden inner turmoil.

“Thalia set us up! She seems to think we'd get along pretty good.” He laughs again and does that thing where he scratches his chin and looks off at a point that no one else can see. “He seems nice, yeah?” And then he's looking at me and he's nervous and I can see it. Jason wants my approval; he wants me to agree with him.

If I say no, Jason will call off the date. Just like that. He's done it before. Gone on a date with someone, introduced us and then if I really didn't care for him, I never actually see or hear about him again. I could end this right now, before it even goes anywhere.

“Yeah he is, the kids just adore him at the pool.” I look at my coffee and bring it to my lips, gathering my thoughts. “Probably the most popular coach there.”

“Really?” And Jason's smiling again. I set my mug down.

“Was that your first time meeting him?” He laughs again and nods.

“We've been texting for a few days now, but I'd never actually met him in person yet.” He smiles again and leaves me at my table to tend to the other few people there.

I look at my drawing of Percy. Will is right. I've drawn him cold. Unfeeling and distant. He's smiling but you can't hear his laugh; instead of looking at you, he's looking through you.

 

“Okay Nico, what's wrong?”

I don't like hospitals very much. I try to avoid them if I can. I don't know how Will does his job, I don't know how _any_ paramedic can do what they do. The things they must see and hear? I get chills just thinking about it. But I guess, someones gotta do it and if you're ever unlucky enough to need an EMT's attention, I hope you get one like Will.

Will cares about people.

He sits next to me on the bench. It's in a sort of little garden at the back of this hospital, under some trees. It was where he said to go when I told him I needed to talk to him.

“I don't have too long Nico, what's going on?” He looks at me and he's wonderful and worried and I love him.

“Jason's going on a date tonight.” Even to me the words sound stupid. Will just lifts an eyebrow and waits for me to go on. “With Percy.”

“Oh.” He leans back in the bench and looks up, closing his eyes. My fingers twitch. The sunlight coming through the trees paints him with shadows and lights and he looks almost heavenly. “So, your unrequited love and your unrequited crush are going out together.” And now he just looks like my darling significant annoyance. “And you're upset and you don't know why.” I hate him.

“Yes!” My hands twitch and I raise them and gesture and grab at unseen things. “Yes dammit!”

Will laughs at me. He actually laughs at me. And then he's standing and now he's in front of me and leaning down and –

His kisses have magical properties I swear. I tend to feel really mellow after one of them.

“Nico, this is something you gotta figure out.” He runs a hand through his hair and I'm sure I look miserable. “You say you're over Percy, but you draw him all the time. You say you don't want to confuse Jason, but you don't like him dating anyone.” He smiles at me and with the blue sky around him I feel like I'm flying.

Then he leans back down and his soft lips touch my nose, his arms on on the bench on either side of me.

“I'm all for whatever you wanna do Nico.” Wills voice is gentle and quiet and I just want to hold him. “You already know that.” It's quiet and we're close and his breath fans across my face and Will is right. Will is always right.

But just because Will has a tendency to be right, doesn't mean I like it. I won't lie, I'd complained to him because I was hoping he'd have an answer. I was hoping he'd be able to go _'This is the problem. This is how we fix it.'_

But this needs more than a band-aid. Why is Percy afraid of me? It's just like the band-aids that were on his hands the other day. It's a question I don't think I'll ever get the answer to. Except, this is Percy Jackson. He's not some nameless person on the street. He's not some one off face that I plucked out of time and captured in my sketch book.

It's also Jason. Jason Grace who smiles and waves at me from the pages of my book. Jason Grace who scraped what was left of me off the sidewalk one random night and helped Will sort out my pieces. The pieces of me that had been broken apart a long time ago.

Ugh. God that's so melodramatic.

Every nerve in my body is screaming at me to not be here. To run far away from this and let it sort itself out without me. To just let Jason and Percy have their date and go on like everything is normal. But it's not normal. Not really and it won't be normal if I just _ignore_ this.

None of that makes sense but it doesn't really matter cause I'm sitting on a swing over by the skate park. It's not close enough that I look like a stalker. But it is close enough that older kids in the skate park can keep an eye on their younger siblings playing on the swings or jungle gym. 

I totally am a stalker right now, aren't I?

“What are you doing here?” I'm really glad no one I have respect for was around to see me face-plant in the dirt off the swing.

“What?” I scramble to my feet and turn around, my heart is pounding. My nerves were already shot this morning. I do not need some random... Oh no.

I can't hold her gaze. I never could. I take the moment to look down and brush the dirt off my clothes. I'm sure I look fine, but my heart is thumping loud enough for her to hear and every part of me wants to run away. This was a terrible idea.

“You're Nico, right?” She's staring at me so sharply. 

“Uh, uh...” I am a poet I swear.

“Percy said you were drawing him at the pool. Now you're here. What are you doing Nico?”

Annabeth wants answers that I'm not entirely sure I have. The swing hangs between us and I think my voice is still down in the dirt somewhere. I can't look at her, she's way too intense. She's always been too intense. I look away from her and over at the skate park and I'm pretty sure that's Percy sailing through the air.

“I'm not stalking him, I swear.” I look back at her and she's glaring at me and she clearly doesn't believe me. “Annabeth, that's not it. It's just... It's been a weird day.”

When did they break up? I guess the rumour in their graduating class that they were leaving town to go get married wasn't true. Cause Percy never really struck me as the type to cheat on anybody and if he was going on a date with Jason that meant he was single and definitely gay. Two things back in high school that I convinced myself would never happen.

“A weird day.”

“Yeah.” She looks like she's trying to decide the best way to ground me into a paste.

“You can't do this again Nico.” What's she talking about? I guess my confusion showed, because she waved an arm over towards the skate park. “This!”

“Look, Annabeth...” How is this even happening right now? I run a hand through my hair and breathe slow, counting to seven with each breath in and out. “I'm not stalking him.” I repeat. “Or following him around or whatever. I just... wanted to talk to him.”

And it's the truth. I think that is why I'm here. I've been wanting to talk to him ever since his basketball bumped my foot. Before that, I could convince myself he was just a really good model for life drawing. If we didn't ever interact at all, it would stay that way. But then he smiled that stupid crooked little grin at me and suddenly became Percy Jackson again. He wasn't just a face and a body in my book anymore; he had a name again.

So badly I want to know what he did to his hands. I want to ask him how it felt when he saved that womans life? When he saved the kid the other day? When did he learn to dive so beautifully? Where did he go after high school? Why did he leave and for that matter, why did he come back?

Our friendship was always weird back in school, but when he was just suddenly _**gone**_ without a word one day...

“About what?” Why does she sound so angry? There are so many questions that I want answers to, that I need real answers to. Making up the story as I go along won't work this time. I need to know. “What could you possibly want to talk to him about?”

She's trying to not be angry. She wants answers just the same as I do. Except, she expects them from me. I just want to run away. I never should've come here. What am I doing?

“Just uh... stuff.” Stop looking at me.

Her arms are crossed over her chest and her stance suggests she's ready to tackle me if I make any sudden moves. It's still the same. People always had to tread carefully around Annabeth when dealing with Percy.

“Stuff.” 

“Yeah...” Please stop looking at me that way. I wonder why they broke up? I wonder what happened, what changed after they left. What happened to them in the last six years? I know I've changed, but why did they?

It's like Annabeth suddenly deflates. The tension leaves her body and she's looking at me differently, studying me not like I'm an enemy, but as something she's not entirely sure she can trust. Something in her look hurts and I flinch. I look down at the dirt beneath my feet. What am I doing here? How is this even happening right now?

“You have no idea, do you?” Her voice is soft. I look up at her and she looks... Sad.

“About what?” There's a weird tension in the air. It feels like all the hair on my body is standing on end and there's a pressure on my chest.

“Of course you don't.” She laughs a little laugh and runs a hand over her hair, grabbing at her pony tail. “You were a stupid, self-absorbed teenager.”

Thanks. That's probably my cue to leave. But that pressure is still there; a horrible gnawing feeling begins clawing at my ribs.

“Annabeth?” Do I want to know what she's talking about? I feel like my lungs aren't getting enough air, that gnawing pressure is keeping my breaths short. And then she beckons me over with her hand and starts walking toward a bench. I could just leave now, I don't want to have this conversation.

I pick up my backpack and follow her.

When I sit down, Annabeth doesn't look at me, she just looks towards the skate park, eyes following one of the figures moving gracefully along... Shit, Even from this distance that looked like it hurt.

“You're... How old now Nico? Nineteen, twenty?” She half looks at me, her hands folded around her knee. My fingers twitch, I want to draw her hands.

“Twenty-one.” I answer with a shrug. “Three years younger than you and Percy, remember?”

“Mm,” She nods at me and again, I wonder how I got here today. Even though I walked the steps, I'm not sure how this happened.

“You're not a teenager anymore Nico.”

“Yeah, I'm aware. Thanks.” She gives me a sharp look and I just frown at my knees. I had to grow up a long time ago Annabeth.

“Well, Mr. Di Angelo, remember when you were?” What is she getting at? “You lost your sister.” I think I might know. “You were upset.” Don't. Please don't. "It's okay, you were ten. But...” The gnawing pressure is biting at my ribs. “Percy was thirteen, Nico. Bianca was his friend.”

Oh god. Oh _god._

I can't look at her. I never thought about it like that before.

“Do you have any idea _**what**_ you did to him?”

I'm gripping the bench. It's not enough. I can't breathe. The grass, the dirt, my legs, my backpack, they all blend together. My eyes sting, my throat feels tight. I never thought about it that way.

“So tell me Nico.” Annabeth is looking at me again and I'm not sure which of us is the one crying. “What _**stuff**_ could you possibly have to talk about with Percy?”

 

 


End file.
